


The love I harbour

by GoldGlazedFluff



Category: Fire Emblem: If | Fire Emblem: Fates
Genre: But think how broken his stats would be though..., Disguise, Eventual Smut, Fluff and Angst, Happy Ending, Infiltration, M/M, Pre-Fire Emblem Fates, Ryoma's a ninja, but not really
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-01
Updated: 2018-03-07
Packaged: 2019-03-25 17:32:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 15,077
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13839618
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GoldGlazedFluff/pseuds/GoldGlazedFluff
Summary: Ryoma has trained in the blade, but so has everyone else. Needless blood is shed on the battlefield and so he decides to visit Nohr with a message of peace as an undercover ninja...and to maybe get a glimpse of golden hair, a perfect scowl and piercing eyes that have been the focus of many a late night spent alone.





	1. The Departure

**Author's Note:**

> My small (15,00+ word -_-) contribution to this wonderful pairing! 
> 
> Set pre-fates in a kind of alternate timeline I guess...just let them be happy ffs.

“Brother, you are insane! I will not allow it! There are other ways to do this!” 

Ryoma sighed, remaining stoic in the face of his loud brother, not allowing himself to lose his temper lest a shouting match take place. The older brother knows he has to calm his younger sibling instead of give him more fuel, Ryoma learning to quell his anger under the guidance of his father, something that Takumi simply didn’t receive since he wasn’t groomed to be the next of kin.

“Young Lord Takumi of Hoshido, I hereby grant you and Princess Hinoka joint leadership of Hoshido under the guise that I am ill and in recovery.” The formality in his voice makes the younger prince snarl. 

“I refuse.” He crosses his arms with arrogant finality and the high prince sighs with a surprisingly gentle smile despite his brother’s heated tone.

“You shall not. I have the agreement of all retainers involved and Saizo has ensured extra security to be placed around the palace in my absence.” The high prince slings a small bag of provisions over his shoulder. 

“I will of course have Kagero tracking me, but only to the border. I cannot raise any more suspicion than necessary. I want genuine viewpoints and information.”  
Takumi releases a loud sigh, his angered face softening into a more reserved anger, not needed to be expelled at him at this moment.

“If you get killed, don’t expect sympathy from me.” He murmurs and Ryoma can’t help but chuckle and nod.

“I would not expect it, dear brother.” Ryoma nodding deeply to him and walking out of the palace grounds; a small pack of rations, commoner’s clothes and his dignity the only things he takes with him. Raijinto lies sheathed within his room and his armour rests on its rarely used stand, the plates commonly slept in, or kept on the floor to get into them easier the next morning.

Walking out of the palace is a strange and exhilarating experience for Ryoma -High Prince of Hoshido- without retainers or siblings noticeably by his side. He knows Kagero slips between the shadows to watch where he is not, but that is only until the border he reminds himself. Suspicions will be raised if a skilled assassin is seen with a Hoshidan commoner, as stealthy as she is.

Knowing he can’t make it to the border in a single day, Ryoma has planned to stay at a village near the border, intending to also be informed on how dangerous the border is now and any other information when living so close to the mountains and Nohr beyond.  
Reaching the village was no hassle, few travellers on the road and the sun shining brightly, easily able to see the path with little to no fuss. The only problem was when Ryoma reached the top of the hill that swept out to see the village as well as the mountain border…

It was alight.

Dark coils of smoke and deep burning flames still ravage the straw buildings. Ryoma knows that there is a stone storage and bunker where the villagers have likely fled -villages along the border had them built so there is more chance of survivors after an attack- but if the attackers were thorough, such little defence would be no match when there are very few guards stationed there because of the impending war, stretching the military everywhere.

Breaking into a battle-ready sprint, Ryoma bounds towards the village, drawing a dagger as his only form of protection but the years of hardened training coursing under his skin make whatever disadvantage a dagger is to a bandit’s sword, obsolete. 

On reaching the village, Ryoma is panting but still ready for combat, not foolish enough to waste his stamina on a run. Almost immediately he notices the lack of villagers, hoping to the gods that they are safe in the small stone shelter that he sees just on the edge of the village that runs underground.   
He begins to head towards the shelter to check but a guttural groan, followed by a crack of limbs catches his attention over the roar of flames.  
Turning, lowering into a defensive stance, the sight that meets him isn’t something he is easily going to forget; a humanoid form with limbs and a torso, but nothing close to human in looks or posture. It’s knees are bent out and broken, it’s neck craned back but shoulders hunched forward to give Ryoma a hard stare. 

Glowing scarlet eyes draw the prince in, making the world around him darken, almost paralysing him in fear but his training kicks in before the monster starts to move. The monster moves in an unpredictable pattern, but is slow compared to Ryoma’s rigorous speed training, Ryoma waiting for the chance he knows he can get. 

A swipe from the left is all he needs to dodge out the way and ram the small dagger into the stomach of the monster, a low groan pouring from it’s mouth in a similar way to the black, tar-like blood oozes from the wound. Ryoma moves out of the way swiftly, ensuring no blood gets on him but that only lands him in more trouble.

Another noise, more like a snarl this time, alerts him of another presence. Spinning, Ryoma only just blocks an arm aiming for his head, this monster along with at least 3 others now closing in on his position. Ryoma knows he can take them so long as he can get direct, piercing hits. But they move so unpredictably Ryoma ends up making several stabs into flailing arms, missing lethal areas at the chest, and all round, getting a lot of dark blood on his hands. By the end of the battle, he is now thoroughly worn out and he counted at least 11 monsters he downed. 

Ryoma scouts out the area, now noticing a few bodies of villagers, but not as many as he expected. Most of them must have been able to escape. Basic scouting finished, Ryoma turns his attention to the bunker- pacing slowly and trying to clean off his hands against the grass before entering.   
There are a few hushed sounds and Ryoma knows better than to stay quiet, though his voice may give him away since he planned to perfect an imitation of one of the villagers here.

“You need not fear me. I have disposed of the monsters. I apologise for making quite a mess.” He tries to keep the mood light, though the lighting in the bunker is dim, for safety of course. 

“Can we go home now?” A child’s voice is heard whispering. 

Shuffling is heard from the darkness of the room, what little light the door leading down provides is not enough to illuminate even one face.   
“Has a valiant soul purged the village of the darkness I set on it?” A distinctly Nohrian voice calls out, the sound of shuffling feet growing the closer. Ryoma steps back, making sure whoever this apparent enemy is can be seen in the light. 

Ryoma knew his life in the palace was a sheltered affair but surely one day cannot harbour so many surprises…The man that emerges from the shadow is certainly not someone you would ever see in Hoshido, or ever, outside of possibly a circus or dramatic performance: slicked blonde hair, jutting cheekbones and dramatic colours covering protective armour, it makes Ryoma feel strangely bare but more prominently- subduing the urge to laugh, especially since he was the one that set those monsters on the villagers.

“You would attack a Hoshidan village? Why?” Ryoma doesn’t want to be prince-like yet, especially if he is planning to cross into his country tomorrow, so acts more confused than angry. 

“W-well you see, I didn’t exactly mean to, so please don’t take me for a bad guy, I know it looks like it but I promise I only wanted a map to find my way back to the castle.” The man admits in rushed, botched Hoshidan and Ryoma looks around before deciding this conversation should best take place without vengeful villagers. He takes the strange man’s arm, guiding him up the stairs and out into the smoking village, the sky clouding over and droplets of rain hitting his exposed forehead, the weight of his headpiece a strange missing comfort. 

“Continue, I do not want you blamed for something you didn’t do.” Ryoma smiles, eyes still slightly wary but the man gives a broad grin.

“Thank you for your trust! You can dispense kindness and justice! You would be a fine ruler-…” A certain mood takes a hold of the man as he looks towards the mountains, the rain setting in now but neither man seems to mind. 

“The village, how did you destroy it?” Ryoma prompts, unsure if all Nohrians are like this or he has found a special case. 

“Oh right. I found a box in one of the villages along the border when travelling with the young princess to the capital from Macarath. I thought someone had dropped it so I asked around and eventually some old woman just told me to keep it, that’s it’s worth a lot across the border. I thought I’d hold onto it in case we ever get invited over but when we were setting out, I tripped and fell down a ridge. It wasn’t far to the castle so I could continue alone and I don’t think anybody saw me anyway. I wasn’t injured but my intrepid eye failed me. I was at the border before I knew it and I reckoned if I bought a map from the Hoshidans, I could get home. I sold the box in this village but then it opened the moment the man touched it, horrific screams and black tar seeping from it…I…I caused this and yet I was too scared to deliver justice myself!” Tears start streaming from the man’s eyes, his chest heaving as he tries to dry his eyes, a strong, confusing performance. 

“Please stranger, don’t punish me! I didn’t mean to be the cause of death for these people!” He bawls, such emotions very strange to be seen coming from such a strong-looking man. 

“There were minimal deaths and I have no intention of doing so. In fact, I am planning to travel to the capital myself.” Ryoma replies, the rain now deeply sodden into his few layers of hair and simple clothing. 

“Looking so Hoshidan?! Stranger, you would be slaughtered on the doorstep!” Tears are replaced with genuine worry as the Nohrian looks at Ryoma as if he has said he is going to kill the king. 

“I know of the…warmth I would receive if I went there, which is why you piqued my intrigue when you said you travel with the young Princess Elise. Are you her retainer?” The man nods in reply and Ryoma places his thumb to his lower lip in thought. 

“If you would like a tour of the capital, I can arrange it with her. I’m sure we could come up with something. Though the question is, why?” An innocent enough question, one Ryoma cannot answer with honesty. 

“I have always wanted to see Nohr. If the rumours are true and I can start telling Hoshidans that it is not all that bad: something which I already believe, I just want to see it for myself.” A pretty good lie that he has come up with. One this man seems to buy.

“If there is good intention, I’m sure we can do something for you, stranger…ah, I’m Arthur by the way.” He holds out his hand and Ryoma takes it hesitantly, remembering the Norhian custom and recalls the name he decided for this trip. 

“Shiro.” Ryoma responds, giving a small bow as his way of greeting while still keeping a hold on his hand. The man recoils, looking a little confused and slightly worried. Ryoma’s equally confused face seems to quell is worried one and he grins magnificently once more, the rain having only just started to make his hair sink.

“Shiro. You may want to use a different name in Nohr. Makes you less trackable once you come back home and all.” He warns, a somewhat formal tone in his voice now, this changeable man very much confusing Ryoma, leaving him exhausted in more ways than one.

“I believe I will be fine. If they know of me, I invite interrogation.” Ryoma says calmly, the smoke in the air and the licks of flames from the burning building now dampened and extinguished. 

“Very well. Do you have a map?” Arthur asks, a hesitant smile on his face and Ryoma nods firmly. 

“You best hold onto it…for justice’s sake and all, since you probably still can’t trust me all that much…and I seem to lose everything most of the time.” He continues, the truth becoming more clear and Ryoma nods again, his head swimming slightly and he steps forward to keep balance. 

Arthur looks at him strangely before noticing how tired his eyes look and he grins, taking Ryoma’s arms and wrapping them round his shoulders from behind, as if readying up for a piggy back.

“It is my duty to help citizens of any race. I shall transport you to the-!”

“Please, don’t. What was all of that talk of getting lost? You need me awake.” Ryoma calmly, -perhaps wearily- suggests. 

“Very true Shiro. But I trust that I can at least get us to the mountain pass!” Arthur exclaims, far too loudly for Ryoma’s tired state and he sighs, begrudgingly hoisting himself up onto his back.

Not two steps later does Arthur slip on the wet ground and send both of them crashing to the ground. 

“Ah! Shiro! I apologise!” He exclaims, Ryoma unable to do anything but give a sympathetic smile, something about this man making him unable to be angry. A formidable foe indeed. 

“Shiro?” Arthur asks softly, the rain beginning to cease, though it wasn’t ever really unwelcomed. 

“Hmm?” Ryoma responds softly and Arthur gets up, offering his hand. Ryoma takes it, strengthening any Nohrian bond he can. 

“Do all Hoshidan men have long hair like yours?” The change of topic is sudden, but clearly spawned from the fact much of his hair is now muddy, even with the rain, the thick spikes need deep cleansing to be rid of all grime.

“It is viewed highly. I suppose it originated from the fact we survived battle long enough to have such length. Or perhaps that it sets us apart: an easy trait to spot in battle, where maintaining honour is worth more than the combat itself.” Ryoma explains, more than happy to give a little culture to the curious. 

“Gods, and here I thought you were too lazy or something!” He barks a laugh and Ryoma gives him a look of mock disgust, his smile breaking through.   
“In all seriousness, though, I wish Nohr was half as cultural as you Hoshidans are. We’re too busy fearing the next storm.” Arthur speaks like a man with experience. 

“We are all bred to fend for ourselves. Not form bonds. Eliminate enemies, the weak take to scavenging and lives of crime-I…shouldn’t be telling you this it just makes me so-!”

“You should tell me. I need to know what I am getting into. Fear not, it does not make my path any different.” Ryoma interrupts before Arthur’s emotions become erratic again. 

“That undefiant headstrong attitude is good to have. Like me!” He shoots Ryoma a large grin before beginning to walk off. Ryoma begins to trail behind, tiredness seeping back into his system after the shock of the slip. 

He sees Arthur turn back before the world around him goes dark.


	2. The Meeting

Waking up without a comfy mattress beneath you, without a feathered pillow under your head, without a warm cover insulating you, really puts you in the best mood for getting to the capital in hopes of acquiring such luxuries. But for now, Ryoma can do no more than sit up and wish. He expects to hear Arthur’s bellowing voice calling out to him but doesn’t hear anything, not even the chirping of birds.

Wherever he is, it is not Hoshido. 

The sky is dark, like twilight, but clouds mask any stars that may be visible -if it even is night. His body is telling him that it is day. His body is also telling him that he is freezing. 

Looking down from the sky, he soon discovers why. 

The mountain border towers above him. He is seemingly now in Nohr but essentially deposited in some thick shrubs, though devoid of berries like Ryoma would expect at this time of year. He rises, holding himself tightly to conserve warmth in his thin clothing, only to get halfway before a pain digs into the back of his skull. He winces and tries to look over, horror on his face when he discovers the problem. 

Apparently, he was quite literally deposited in the shrubs that lie dangerously close to snowy rocks since his hair has made a thick web of infinite tangles with it. There is absolutely no way he can rise his head any further than the backwards lean he is struggling to keep up currently, but to abandon his mane in some nondescript shrub is actually the worst thing he can think of when it comes to preserving his honour.

A multitude of thoughts and emotions run through his head: he may not be recognised on the journey back, he may have a hard time proving he is Ryoma, he has worked so hard keeping his hair long and controlled, but most pressing is that unquestionable fact he needs to get out of this bush. 

Drawing his dagger, Ryoma psyches himself up, mentally, emotionally and physically, before making a swift slice through his hair. He winces even though no actual pain hit him and what’s left of his chocolate locks barely reach his shoulders now. He sheathes his dagger with a shaking sigh and steps from the shrub. Now standing at full height, he is able to crack out his back after sleeping awkwardly, not allowing himself to stay lamenting his thick hair for too long. 

“I wondered when the sleeping princess would wake up.” Ryoma jumps when precise fingers snake around his unarmoured shoulders, the sensation strange but he must get used to life without armour on. 

He turns to the voice, stepping back towards the shrub but not too far to risk another haircut. 

The man that stands before him has a very smug look on his face, tossing his pure white locks out of his face before they just settle back in the exact same place. An eyepatch covers one of his eyes and if all that is not sinister enough, the complete lack of care his demeanour seems to portray certainly unnerves the undercover prince. 

“Who are you?” Ryoma asks, hating how shakily his voice comes out. The man laughs, a strange lightness but mostly sickening tone to it. 

“A friend of Arthur. As he cares for Princess Elise, I care for Prince Leo. It seems you have struck lucky, Hoshidan. Arthur has informed us of your plan and the Crown Prince himself is more than happy to meet you, I’m almost jealous…” The man steps closer, their faces but a couple of inches apart. 

“I must warn you though. If you try anything that endangers the lives of anyone in this country…well, the consequences will not be pretty.” The man clicks his tongue and draws away from Ryoma. 

“I agree to your terms. But who is ‘us’?” Ryoma starts, not quite believing how well his plan is going. Of course, he knew of the royal family travelling back to the capital, but he didn’t think he would have a Nohrian back him up in this. 

“Let’s walk and talk, shall we? Well, I say walk…” The man paces through the shrubbery and decaying trees, a soft nicker alerting Ryoma of a horse’s presence. Quite the problem. 

Ryoma is no horseman. 

As shown by his futile attempt to climb on behind the white-haired man. 

“You alright there Princess?” The man laughs and slides behind the saddle after another failed attempt at a mount. He pats the saddle in front of him and Ryoma gulps. He would have the stirrup to help but having that man likely flush against his back does not make a comfortable sensation settle in his mind. Still, he needs to focus on his quest, a strange man and a horse is not going to put him off now. Ryoma climbs on with the help of the man swinging his leg over the other side, Ryoma not wanting to focus on how he seems to glide his hand back up his leg to return to the reins. 

“Now…My name is Niles, retainer of Prince Leo along with Odin the dark mage. Each of the four children of King Garon has two retainers. Princess Elise has Arthur -the one you met-, and Effie, the surprisingly strong knight. Princess Camilla has Selena and Beruka as her protectors, both women very…uncaring of most people. Finally, Crown Prince Xander has Laslow and Peri as his retainers. Both are loyal, fiercely so, though everyone has their distractions. Got all that Princess?” Niles speaks as if he is listing all the ways he could kill you, slowly and precisely, and Ryoma doesn’t doubt the power of any of the royal guards for a moment if they are similar to his own retainers.

“My name is Shiro” Ryoma replies somewhat timidly, now most certainly feeling the press of Niles against his back as he pushes his horse into a canter.

“How very Hoshidan, Shiro.” Niles purrs, almost infuriatingly sensually. Ryoma doesn’t exactly know how to react and stays quiet, letting the hard clopping of the horse’s steps fill the silence. 

No sly fox darts between the blooming trees, only twisted, rotting trunks with hardy shrubs, barely making lives for themselves. It feels as if there is a choking presence not allowing anything to grow-

“You are not used to such death and hopelessness, are you?” Niles digs his elbows into Ryoma’s side, the best he can do when holding the reins to grab Ryoma’s attention. 

“I have witnessed death before. But nothing so bleak that even the plants have given up.” Ryoma admits, a soft chuckle heard from behind him with a definite breath over his ear felt, despite the wind travelling at such speed around them. 

“Fear not, the people are much livelier. The ones alive anyway.” Niles chuckles again, this time much darker. Ryoma’s shoulders hunch, really not wanting to spend any more time than is necessary with Niles. Luckily, a convoy with two wyvern riders flying above the treeline and very armoured travellers come into view up the road. People Ryoma can only assume are the royal family with their retainers. 

Niles continues to canter while the convoy walks, allowing the people not on mounts to keep up, and Niles to close in on the convoy. A few people turn to the loud clatter of hooves, drawing swords but Niles waves out from behind Ryoma. The convoy hesitates, not looking as insistent on attacking since Niles draws up to the back of the group and slips off the horse. Ryoma does the same, knowing better than to look equal to the royalty he suspects are mounted. The horse gives a gentle whinny before trotting over to a walking man who turns and looks relieved to have his horse back. By the looks of the book he’s holding he must be a mage, naturally weaker by nature. 

“I borrowed Prince Leo’s horse to retrieve both you and Arthur. I saw him first, he told me you fell into the shrubs. And didn’t you just fall right in there…” The last sentence was a far too intimate tease and Ryoma steps from Niles, right into the back of someone else. 

“Hey, watch it-! Oh. You’re the Bush Hoshidan, aren’t you?” The man that turns to Ryoma is pleasant enough to look at, certainly a friendly type. He wonders what the catch is. 

“My name is Shiro” Ryoma speaks loud enough in his rehearsed, slightly wobbly Nohrian so that maybe he will have to repeat himself less. The man smiles. 

“Laslow.” He grins, but not before a heavy clop of hooves is heard and a cough interrupts any half-decent conversation. 

Ryoma is glad he got off the horse- being level with Crown Prince Xander is a terrifying prospect. He has only seen him from above in spars and a passing glance left to him as he continues to speak with Sumeragi. The Prince levels a hard stare that somehow seems to mirror the blank expression Ryoma was taught by his father, the likeness too similar to not consider, but anything leading on from that is simply foolish to assume.

“Hoshidan. You are either impossibly brave, or utterly foolish to step even one foot in Nohr. I must somewhat commend you if it is the prior, you must have a worthwhile cause to seek me out before the cold winter weather freezes you.” The Prince speaks, wondering if Nohr has even heard of spring. Xander’s voice has also deepened since his last visit. He has grown…and got a lot more handsome too…as a side note…that Ryoma isn’t going to go down.

“Crown Prince Xander. I ask no more than for a little of your time. I have information about Hoshido that no spy of yours could uncover. Things that can help both of our countries-“  
“You interest me enough as it is, Shiro. Such foolish bravery deserves to be rewarded. Come, let us discuss this more privately.” Xander interrupts. Ryoma not complaining. As long as he isn’t tortured for more information than he knows, his life should remain intact. Xander trots off ahead, the rest of the convoy begins to move again, slower, giving Ryoma the chance to run ahead and have a little more privacy like he explained. Though he doesn’t know how long he can straight walk for, not knowing how far it is to the capital either.

“What is your game, Hoshidan scum?” Xander’s change of tone hits Ryoma like a sack of stones, his horse slowing down to a walk as he is momentarily stunned.

“I don’t have a game, Crown Prince.” Ryoma says quickly, calmly, knowing the worst thing to do is retort angrily. Xander is similar to Takumi in that respect, the thought makes him smile to himself incrementally.

“I know your kind. You dream big, come up with a short term plan, not realising how it will affect the two countries in the long term. How not everyone will not just happily comply with what the authority says. And certainly, not everyone has a simple past with people from the other country. In-fighting already happens in Nohr, we don’t need another country coming in and telling us what we can and can’t do.” Xander’s tone changes throughout his explanation, difficult to place what emotion he is feeling, almost as if he is struggling to maintain his hard exterior.

“That’s not what I’m asking for. I’m here to tell you that Hoshido isn’t perfect. Not at all. We need what you have. And we can give you all the food, clothing, anything you can’t provide. It’s trade, it’s not one side taking more than the other.” Ryoma feels his princely instincts coming into his voice, the almost unbudgeable urge to insult the intelligence of the Nohrians. 

“I know what trade is, scum. But we do not need it. Not when we have other methods.” Xander has venom, but it doesn’t sting Ryoma. He has had too many lazy insults to take offence anymore. 

“Are they working?” Ryoma responds simply, keeping his tone level. Xander growls. 

“It works well enough that we don’t need your help.” He bites, but again, no pain comes to Ryoma.  
“Besides, how can a peasant like you help?”  
“Who says I’m a peasant?” Ryoma easily responds, months of planning finally becoming useful.

“You snake. What are you?!” Xander all but demands, Ryoma certain the convoy heard the outburst. 

“Quite simply, a ninja. Your Nohrian equivalent would be an assassin.” Ryoma entertains the silence and Xander’s fuming expression.

“A ninja who knows of the royal family, of their struggle to keep the country together after Sumeragi’s death. Lord Ryoma is not equipped to deal with leading a country financially or socially. The only real training he has had is in combat. A new High Lord needs allies, not enemies. I’m not doing it for his sake, not for the sake of the royal family either. I’m doing this for you. You can make the impression that Nohr needs. People are dying, I know they are. I only have to look at the environment to see that this land is dying. But you do have steel.” Ryoma leaves his comment hanging, leaving Xander to figure out the rest. 

“You…You say I kneel down at Ryoma’s feet, begging for a trade alliance?” Xander looks down at Ryoma, meeting his gaze for the first time. Ryoma sees the motion in his peripheral but he casts his head back instead, getting impatient with Xander’s distrust.

“Gods, no! Hoshido needs steel, building materials, your technology. We make everything out of wood and for ports, storage buildings and forts, that is a terrible idea.” Ryoma explains, only now looking up at Xander who has an unreadable emotion on his face. 

His eyebrows are frowning but his eyes hold a deep sadness. His jaw is tight but he holds himself loose. It is a strange concept for Ryoma who has been told he can be read like a book, but also able to read people equally as well. Xander doesn’t say anything, he holds his expression until he holds out his hand towards Ryoma. 

“Get on. Arthur’s Little Adventure has cost us Time. Time Fath-… King Garon isn’t going to appreciate losing.” He explains and with the mention of the King, Ryoma takes his hand, swinging on behind the prince -with a little help from his horse’s armour to help with footing. 

Xander looks back to the convoy and casts up his hand, walking units swinging up onto mounted ones and starting to canter. Xander follows suit and Ryoma grips at the back of the saddle, the discomfort immediate as he bounces on steel plates. He tries not to complain but when the horse has to tip back to begin to go down a slope, he lets out a small whimper. He hopes to the gods that Xander didn’t hear but it seems luck is no longer on his side as the Crown Prince turns back and looks at his pained face.

“Ah. You are Hoshidan. You are not used to riding. Forgive me.” There is a warmer tone to Xander’s voice and to say that Ryoma is phased is an understatement. That, coupled with an impossibly soft facial expression leaves Ryoma stunned. Xander must have forgotten the possible worm he is leading into the capital; perhaps he trusts the soldiers to capture him? What could allow such a soft face to be so publicly displayed? At least a minute before Xander gives a gentle cough that kicks Ryoma back into the real world.

“It does not matter, Prince Xander. It is not long to the capital now, right?” Shortening Xander’s title seems to go unnoticed, the prince shuffling forward on the saddle. 

“It may be tight, but it should be much more comfortable than the bouncing.” Xander is back to commanding, but the idea he is insinuating…  
“Where would I place my hands?” Ryoma asks hesitantly, taking advantage of a straight part in the road to begin to lift himself forward onto the saddle. 

“As long as you are not like Niles, I would, permit you to place them at my waist… for stability.” Xander replies, a certain awkward tone making it through the formal admission. 

Ryoma settles into the saddle, effects of the horse immediately lessening but even more daunting as his senses hone in on very gently placing his hands on the Crown Prince’s waist. He doubts Xander can even feel the touch through his armour, but he likely would feel the vice grip that soon follows after the horse breaks out into a full on gallop, plains spreading out for miles. Ryoma glances back and sees the two wyverns screeching and soaring up, the other horses more than eager to run with Xander’s. It seems they enjoy the feeling of running. A good mentality. One humans -especially swordsmen like him- would be gifted to have.

“Be careful, Shiro. You do not want to cut off the circulation to your fingers.” Xander takes the reins into one hand, patting Ryoma’s clenched fist with his now free one. The touch shocks Ryoma’s fingers open and Xander takes that to press his hand in, so that Ryoma can feel the warmth of his body under the armour.  
Gradually, Ryoma un-curls the other of his own accord and maintains a good grip on him, trying to shake the feeling that Xander is somewhat accepting of ‘Shiro’. A burning question remains though: how would he react if it was Lord Ryoma? It’s not like he’s going to risk anything yet. He needs a deal first. He needs trust and ensured trade with Xander before he can give anything away. It’s risky though. Very risky. Ryoma was expecting to be away for a couple of months, wiggling his way into society to find out as much as he can. This kind of plunge into the unknown because of the Arthur incident is cutting Ryoma’s time in half, but is also making his blood run cold with how much initial lying he is going to have to do before he can afford to be more honest. Especially since Xander believes his story and he’s going to likely ask more about him before he gives anything of himself up. After all Ryoma came here, not the other way around.

Strangely enough, the plains begin to become more trodden, Ryoma getting more and more confused until he realises that the supposed tree line isn’t actually trees but a huge, towering wall. The horses slow their gallop -as if fearing the wall- into a canter, the dark sky obscuring how truly tall it is. Xander has to push his horse to the iron gate carved out of the wall, Nohrian guards halting the Crown Prince is a sight to see.

“Crown Prince Xander, do you realise there is a Hoshidan man behind you?” One of the sentries asks, his voice far too young to be a solider and it sickens Ryoma. 

“I do. He is a hostage that I will demand information from. But before I take him to the prison, he needs treatment in the Northern Fortress.” Xander says as if that way of speaking was how he always had, like he didn’t speak so softly to Ryoma not an hour before. 

“Of course Crown Prince, I am not one to defy reason.” The sentry nods and the iron gate opens, Xander and the convoy trotting through. 

The dark sky makes sense now: forges pour black smoke from their furnaces, Ryoma knows that is how even his armour was made but looking at how it literally blackens the sky makes him want to bury his face away, in Xander’s back or not. 

“Your capital does not have its industrial capital strapped onto it, does it? Yours is of fine art and good impressions.” Xander says flatly and Ryoma can’t help but sense Xander is disgusted by the sight too.

“Yes…” Ryoma all but whispers, trying not to breathe in too much of the burning air. 

The convoy trots towards what looks like a main street circling all the way to another, smaller gate. But along the street, with the merchants and moneygrubbers, sit homeless people, skinny children and dying elderly seemingly cast from their homes. Not even in the supposed capital are people happy. It is truly a place where only the strong survive. 

“Peace, Shiro.” Xander’s hands brush Ryoma’s clenched ones again, Ryoma not recalling tightening them, must have been impulsive. He murmurs an apology into Xander’s back as they approach the second gate, the iron bars already being opened for them. 

“Welcome home, Crown Prince Xander.” Is all the guard says this time, the convoy passing through and they come to the stables, everyone dismounting and Ryoma quickly follows, almost buckling after not using his legs for so long. He feels like he should walk with his legs separated a little, waddling to make everything more comfortable but Xander is walking just fine as he leads his steed into its sheltered pen. 

He can’t let a little sore thigh stop his mission. 

Xander looks back to his convoy, a sudden straightness in his back -that is more like how a prince should hold themselves- shooting through his body, as if he forgot when becoming almost friendly with ‘Shiro’. 

“This man is not a threat. I want you to treat him with the respect of a Nohrian. Do not let your guards down though.” A grave tone enters his voice and Ryoma wonders if he really did hear Xander speak gently to him at all. 

The family and their retainers nod and a small hand suddenly grabs Ryoma’s.  
“Does that mean we can play?!” A young girl with huge, spiralling, cone-like bunches pulls on Ryoma’s hands. 

“Easy Elise, he will be tired from the journey. As will you. Rest tonight little princess, perhaps tomorrow.” Xander speaks with a smile, but his voice does not hold any warmth. 

Elise doesn’t seem to mind or notice since she grins and runs off, looking back and waving. Ryoma looks around before two people walk past him, the one with white hair brushing against his side. Niles and Odin follow Elise away while Laslow and Peri walk up beside Xander, staring at Ryoma. 

“I’m glad you trust him, Prince Xander, I know he’s not a bad guy.” Laslow nods with an easy smile but Peri doesn’t seem so sure, keeping her quiet judging look to herself. 

“Shiro, come this way, let your world changing ideas rest for a while.” Xander turns and walks on, other people walking past him and he walks on, a few steps feeling strange but he quickly remembers how walking works again after the bumpy horse ride. 

The walk to the Northern Fortress is a quiet one for Ryoma, everyone talking about dinner, training or simple Nohrian things Ryoma has no clue about. He doubts he will be treated as an honoured guest and that’s fine by him. He didn’t even expect to get anywhere close to here, let alone with people seeing him and being fine with it. 

“The fortress has been converted into a simple living space since we conquered the northern territories.” Xander explains incredibly formally as the family breaks off to their respective spaces, Laslow on Ryoma’s side with Peri giving him evil eyes from Xander’s. 

“You can have this room. I suspect it should be clean. Felica, Flora and Jakob are tireless in their duties. They are the maids and butler by the way.” Xander continues as he arrives at a door, pushing it open and smiling, the smile not reaching his eyes though. 

“My infinite thanks Prince Xander, I do not deserve such hospitality in enemy territory.” Ryoma bows low. 

“I am giving you the chance you gave Arthur.” Xander responds simply, beginning to walk away. The overwhelming sense of gratitude Ryoma holds for Arthur who he hasn’t even thanked on the convoy trip almost overwhelms him to grab the retreating form of Laslow to ask where the eccentric man’s quarters are, but that would be incredibly suspicious and possibly dangerous to Ryoma’s reputation. For now, he will try and collect himself for tomorrow, entering his allocated room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the positive feedback! As you can see, I kinda just wanted Ryoma to hurry up and get into the capital, but Arthur made it happen so in a way, Arthur is the true MVP.
> 
> In case entering a room with a bed wasn't enough of a hint: next chapter will be smut ;)


	3. The Night

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, now the fic is explicit so uhh, you know where this is going...
> 
> Xander gets pretty headcanon-y here, sorry if the 'secret weakness' gimmick isn't your thang.

It’s a clean, simple room with only two Nohrian emblems to be seen: one on each curtain that is drawn for now.

Ryoma vaguely remembers staying here before, not one of the most warm or productive peace discussions he attended at his father’s suggestion. He doesn’t remember much, only a very patchy recollection of shy looks flicking from person to person during discussions, hushed greetings returned anyone attempting to have good favour with the King-to-be, nothing like the Xander that effortlessly leads his cohort today.

Xander as King of Nohr is a much more comfortable thing to image with ‘Shiro’s’ input considered. Ryoma sits on the bed, wondering just how far Shiro could convince Xander that he is genuine. He doesn’t want to brainwash the High Prince, simply offer what Hoshido have and forge an alliance that can weather through the turmoil of post-war clean up. Shiro only means well, but Shiro is also Ryoma and that fact will eventually have to be revealed, and how Ryoma is going to survive that is certainly something that will need to be carefully plannned. 

He takes out his small pack of provisions hidden deep within the folds of his worker’s outfit, eating a small amount to keep him going before lying down on the Nohrian bed, raised from the floor and a thick mattress beneath him. It’s a wondrous feeling, dampened only by the fact it is so cold being alone in a new bed, and the fact that only a select, rich few can have this luxury in Nohr. Ryoma lies awake in the dark, thinking of strategies, lines, casual conversation topics that won’t turn personal as any chance of the sun appearing is gone. A chilled breeze battering on the window sill doesn’t help calm his nerves. How can he act natural in enemy territory? How can he possibly gain everyone’s trust while still keeping who he is a secret-?

The shuffling of feet sets him on edge. He reaches for his dagger and darts from his bed, hiding against the wall that the door opens from. The door opens and he attacks, kicking the door shut so there are no witnesses while he wrangles the intruder to the ground, pressing the knife against their neck.

“You distrust us so easily?” A familiar voice speaks harshly from below him and Ryoma immediately gets up, realising he is safe here and pulling a stunt like that has done vastly more harm than good.

“I-I apologise, I panicked. I was resting and I was in that kind of haze where instincts can easily take over-“

“Hush.” Xander speaks and Ryoma does so without any more wasted breath.

Something is pressed into Ryoma’s chest as they stand back up and he makes to grab it, finding it has a strange texture.

“I brought you something to eat.” Xander says plainly, seemingly all warmth gone in the dark room, or maybe it was because Ryoma just attacked him.

“Thank you…but why you? You should be asleep, and you have plenty of servants…” Ryoma takes a small bite of the identified loaf of bread in his hand, still slightly warm which is a strange sensation to hold onto in the frigid night air.

“I… want to know more about you, Shiro.” Xander replies, his tone wavering between formal and slightly embarrassed. One thing Ryoma has noticed is that Xander tends to slip from his princely formalities when alone. It’s quite foolish if Ryoma was going to give him advice, especially since he is talking to a Hoshidan that Ryoma is sure has not gained all of the prince’s trust yet. And since Xander has personally come seeking the kind of personal information he doesn't know yet, Ryoma is going to have to start thinking very quickly.

“Very well…what would you like to know?” Ryoma knows he’s playing a dangerous game; he still hasn’t decided if he should admit to having siblings in case he slips up by saying his sibling does something too, or risk being impossibly similar to Ryoma with three other siblings.

“Why are you doing this?” Xander asks, voice quiet, almost shyly but Ryoma dismisses it.

“To bring peace-“

“No. I mean why are YOU doing this? Nohrians have doubtlessly impacted your life, and I want to know how.” Xander snaps, seemingly so confident in his conviction. Ryoma pauses, knowing Xander will take this as reluctance to quickly recall all the plans he has tried to make.

“You can trust me not to tell anyone. I just want to know what you are risking so much for.” Xander continues, his form seemingly moving closer in the darkness, his golden locks catching a couple of stray moonbeams to give a dappled outline of his form.

“My father.” Ryoma rushes out, not moving though he can feel Xander is very close. He hopes he’s not acting too suspicious. 

“Ahh. A classic reason. It seems you are simply bolder than anyone else to do anything about it.” Xander’s tone now carries the warmth again, making Ryoma’s heart clench.

“Why…do you ask?” Ryoma takes a moment to compose himself, heart suddenly hammering more than it has any right to in this situation, yes he needs to worm his way out of this situation but there is something else with his proximity to the High Prince that is making his heart beat as if he is going into battle.

“I know of someone who tried to reason with the Hoshidans once…many died for his insolence.” Xander draws away suddenly, his outlined form moving towards the bed-no, the window next to it. Ryoma hesitantly follows.

“I know of that battle Prince Xander-“ Ryoma begins but Xander turns sharply, the moon fully illuminating a small portion of his face.

“Please, just Xander. Alone, I am no more important than you.” He asks with a definate desperation and Ryoma steps closer again, his suspicions confirmed on how defenseless Xander wants to be in this room. Xander turns his face back to the window, Ryoma catching a glimpse of downcast eyes and eyebrows not constantly fused together.

Ryoma takes a large bite out of the bread held limply in his hand before moving forward to stand beside him, their shoulders brushing and fingers a breath apart as they rest on the windowsill. He finishes his mouthful and places the loaf on the windowsill with his free hand, taking a deep breath and releasing his nerves, his heart returning to a less worrying pace.

“I know you speak of yourself, Prin-…Xander.” He begins, Xander gasping and drawing himself away into the corner of the room. Because he didn’t sense Ryoma approach or because Xander hoped Shiro wouldn’t know that he led the battle, Ryoma doesn’t know, but he needs to comfort the suddenly distressed prince. Ryoma doesn’t want to make out he is trapping him, but there isn’t much he can do apart from move back towards him, speaking slowly and calmly.

“I know you have tried and Hoshido has spat it back on your face. But that was Sumeragi. I know Garon and Sumeragi are old and wise, but they hold traditions of conflict and bloodshed, things not fit for this age. I have seen the change Ryoma has brought about already. And I’m not saying that I, or anyone else, should kill your father, I’m saying that when you become King, you can change all this. And the thing is…” Ryoma closes the distance between them, Xander could not be more pressed up against the wall as he gently places a sturdy hand on his shoulder. Xander’s breathing is heavy and forced, almost as if he is about to cry but instead of breaking down, he just about manages to speak.

“What is it…?” Xander sounds young. Innocent. Not at all what Ryoma saw commanding the convoy hours earlier. To see this side is almost sickeningly enriching, knowing Ryoma’s main enemy is secretly this weak and undeveloped… but to think like that is to think like his dead father, and with his death should come a more peaceful world.

“I know you don’t want conflict either. You’ve already tried after all.” Ryoma finishes after only just realisng Xander had been looking desperately at him for at least a minute. With the answer, Xander sinks down against the wall to pull his legs to his chest, clearly not the answer he wanted to hear even though Ryoma doesn’t even know what he __would__  want to hear. He follows him down, hand remaining on his shoulder, but Ryoma doesn’t dare do more lest he crush or spook the prince.

A soft sniff breaks the silence of the room, Ryoma beginning to rub circles with his thumb into Xander’s shoulder. The sobs become less masked and with a wail, Xander clings to Ryoma like he’s an anchor in a sea-storm.

“Shiro!” Xander cries, fingers trying to cling to him more, digging into him but his strength wains before he can do any real damage. Ryoma takes to gently bringing his arms round Xander’s quivering body, that in itself requiring some manhandling. Ryoma positions the prince more in his lap than against the wall and rubs slow, comforting circles at the small of his back. The weeping continues, Ryoma still not entirely sure what has brought this on but leans carefully down to whisper softly to him; re-encouraging, sweet nothings to fill the silence with something other than sobs.

Xander buries his face in Ryoma’s shoulder, his sobs becoming less frequent but ‘sorry’ becoming the chosen thing to pour out instead. Ryoma begins to suspect that Xander has not had someone like this to confide in- knowing he himself must maintain a professional aura at all times- and so even if it is a Hoshidan, Ryoma guesses that Xander can finally release all the emotions he has been bottling up.

“It’s alright Xander, I’m here, your family is here. They love you and you have loyal retainers. You have the power, the mindset and the will to change Nohr for the better. And I know you will. And I’ll be there with you if you want me to.” Ryoma continues, moving one hand up to stroke through Xander’s golden hair, though he doesn’t actually register doing so.

Not until Xander has calmed and he realises where they are again.

“I’m so sorry Shiro. I let you stay here, I come to give you food, and I end up crying like a babe in front of you...” Xander’s voice is still weak but he is much more coherent in his sentences now.

“Don’t worry Xander. I won’t tell anyone. You can always find solace in me if you feel like you can’t turn anywhere else.” Ryoma says, not thinking about the time when he must leave and go back to being Ryoma again, because all he wants right now is Xander to be back to his hardened self again. He can’t say he doesn’t appreciate Xander trusting him, but risking anyone else seeing him in this state: tear-stained cheeks and taking solace in a Hoshidan, would likely endanger his chances of becoming King. Something both Shiro and Ryoma wouldn’t want to happen.

“Shiro, you are too kind. Any woman you fall in love with better be a goddess, because that’s what you deserve.” Ryoma can feel a feeble smile brushing his collarbone as Xander pulls back, fingers relaxing but not letting go. Though a sudden change in conversation, he can’t blame the prince, something like the other gender should be a simple thing to bond over. However, with Ryoma struggling to keep up his persona, he doesn’t think he could keep up two in the form of some woman Shiro has back home. With this, he feels his cheeks heat up but supposes there’s no harm done if Ryoma tells him a truth since Xander hasn’t made the connection yet.

“I…I would not fall in love with a woman…Before you ask, yes. It is equally as unaccepted in Hoshido as I expect it to be in Nohr. Not illegal, but looked upon with haughty eyes.” Ryoma speaks quietly but knows Xander can hear.

“You mean to say you are…?” Xander’s fingers drawing away now and Ryoma panics.

“Y-yes, but that doesn’t mean I was nice to you to seduce you! I just want you to be happy and to trust me and I saw that you were distressed and I was worried for you, I wasn’t trying to do anything! I would never force you or, or make you do something against your will, you’re the high Prince of Nohr after all, I can’t exactly go bossing you around right? Oh Gods I’m sorry, I called you Prince again, Xander, I’m sorry-“

“Gods, perhaps you are my goddess instead.” Xander murmurs underneath Ryoma’s panicked speech.

Xander hooks his hand behind Ryoma’s neck and pulls him in, delivering a hot, feverish kiss, filled with lust and need to Ryoma’s stunned lips, still parted from talking. He pulls away, very aware that the kiss was not returned but Ryoma trails after him, bumping his nose into Xander’s before slotting his lips between his again. Xander makes a surprised sound but it catches in his throat. Ryoma breaks the kiss since he started it and brings his hand up to cup Xander’s cheek, a gentle embrace holding him close with the other hand. The last thing he wants to do is use the prince in this way, but Xander’s hold is already strengthening, so he might as well let the prince recover how he wants to.

“Shiro, I have never wanted to indulge in this aspect of my life. I thought I would never be able to be my true self. When I was younger, it was quite literally beaten out of me-ah!” Ryoma has brought his hand from Xander’s cheek and now sweeps him up bridal style to the bed, the corner of the room hardly a comfortable spot to share intimate kisses and childhood trauma.

“Say no more, my princess! …in all seriousness, say no more. I don’t want bad memories ruining this and if you do, I will probably want to kill your father more than I already do.” Ryoma explains as he lies Xander down, crawling over him. Despite not wanting to use him, Ryoma trusts Xander will tell him to stop if they go too far.

Ryoma catches the moonlit gaze of Xander from below him, seeing the innocent fear still set in the Crown Prince’s eyes. He wants to, __needs__  to shake that aspect out of Xander, such complacency and even immaturity has no place in a king. So Ryoma grabs Xander’s wrists, rising them above his head and looking steely into his eyes, a strong, bold gesture, so very unlike Shiro which Ryoma swiftly comes to realise, blushing and coming down to lie by his side.

The small noise of disappointment surprises Ryoma.

“Was that... ok?” Ryoma turns to Xander and after a long pause, Xander gives an incremental nod.

“I just thought that since you’re a Prince and all-“

“Not here. Not with you. Please, treat me as an equal. Treat me as you would a-…uhh…” Xander falters and Ryoma can’t deny him any longer.

He climbs back over him, Ryoma’s shadow now masking any light from the moon as he leans down, capturing Xander’s lips again but this time only leaving a moment once they separate to breathe in before he is back on them again. Xander reciprocates by holding round Ryoma’s middle with one arm, and grips a handful of hair in the other, the grip turning vice-like and distinctly more demanding than what Ryoma is currently giving him.

“All in due time, Xander.” Ryoma teases a little as he crawls off him purposefully this time, letting his touch linger before he swings his legs off the side of the bed and casts a glance back to Xander. He releases an undignified whine before crawling over, draping his arms over Ryoma and pushes his nose into his shoulder.

“Please, Shiro…” Xander whispers hotly before softly kissing the back of Ryoma’s ear. Ryoma would be lying if he said he didn’t want to continue kissing but he wants to see what Xander can give him aside from that.

“I believe you have a __job__ to be doing.” Ryoma says, not commanding but forceful.

Xander comes around to sit beside him and Ryoma nods down to his half-mast erection straining against his cloth garments. Xander seizes and flinches away, by the looks of it, certainly not wanting to do such a thing yet.

“Oh gods…Xander…Sorry, I’m sorry, Xander, I didn’t mean to feel like I’m forcing you, that’s the last thing I want!” Ryoma tries to reach out to Xander but he swats his hand away, standing up from the bed, the mood shattered and entirely Ryoma’s fault for going too far.

“I pushed it too far, I’m sorry Xander! Please don’t leave…” Ryoma essentially begs, getting up and hugging the taller man from behind, fingers fanned out and digging in to physically stop as much of him as possible.

Xander hasn’t tried to move.

“Shiro. I’m the one that should apologise. I…didn’t expect you to be so…responsive.” He struggles to say, choosing his words carefully and even now, on the edge of rejection, Ryoma still finds Xander more adorable than ever.

“It’s fine Xander, truly. I don’t know what came over me. We’ll go at your pace just…don’t leave.” Ryoma whimpers out, tugging the larger man back a tiny bit, showing his intent. After a few pregnant moments, a long sigh is drawn out from Xander and he pats his hand over Ryoma’s, immediately relaxing them and he turns in his hold.

“Very well.” Xander says softly, his lips meeting Ryoma’s and Ryoma jumps on it, clinging to him tighter than before which gets a small chuckle from Xander through the kiss, his breath casting warmth over Ryoma’s face. In hindsight, Ryoma did just create the perfect scenario for Xander to leave, for less chance of him to spill too much information and retain his Hoshidan worker persona…but to deny Xander now is out of the question.

Ryoma pulls the prince back towards the bed during the subsequent make-out exchange, sitting down at the edge again and Xander straddles him without a command, never breaking the kiss. Ryoma makes sure the kiss isn’t broken when he wraps Xander’s legs round his waist and stands, turning and getting further onto the bed so they can lie, Ryoma on top.

“So strong…” Xander breathes between kisses, running his hands all around Ryoma’s back and seemingly content to stay lying there kissing deeper and stronger each time their lips collide. Ryoma should deal with his…problem, later.

Not that there’s anything wrong in making out with the Crown Prince… in his own capital city…as the High Lord of the land currently in impending conflict with the country…under the guise of a lowly ninja.

Ryoma lets out a deflated sigh after breaking a particularly forceful kiss.

“Shiro, are you alright? I-I’m sorry that I don’t want to-“

“It’s not that, Xander. I’ve told you I don’t mind. I’m just…so conflicted.” Ryoma states vaguely. And now that he’s on the topic, he realises he can’t stop until he’s in prison or killed on the spot.

“Speak your mind, friend.” Xander says softly with a soft caress to his cheek and Ryoma cringes at how gentle he is to a lying Hoshidan.

“I am just wondering what Ryoma would think of this…” He replies quietly, the words not coming easy.

“Ryoma? …You mean to say that once you’re done finding out all of our flaws you’re going to go back and report to him?” Xander says, his hand dropping from Ryoma’s hair, but not as angry as he expected the prince to be.

“I’ll say everything I have said to you. How you want change. How we need your trade and you need ours. I…I know he will accept.” Ryoma looks Xander in the eyes as much as possible and Xander is unnervingly silent.

Slowly, a hand comes to rest at Ryoma’s cheek, another reaffirms its place at his side. A tug is given and Ryoma goes easily, coming to rest on his back with Xander over him now, his shoulder pressed against the wall from the roll. Golden locks brush his other cheek not captured by Xander’s hand and he is kissed once more.

“You won’t forget this...us…will you?” Xander’s commanding voice returns but in the strangest way, almost angry, mostly desperate.

“Never, Xander, never.” And for good measure, he leans up and plants a kiss to Xander’s lips.

“It’s strange you bring up Ryoma actually…” Xander ponders and Ryoma’s interest is immediately piqued.

“I was considering just how much you look like him. Though that’s probably incredibly racist to say, I meant it as in face shape. Your jawline…it’s similar…well, it doesn’t help that I had a small crush on him last time he came here, and now we are in this position... I know such a crush is a foolish endeavour. There’s no way anything like that could possibly-“ Ryoma silences him with a deep kiss, not wanting to get more upset about the futility of whatever this relationship is, more than he already is.

Ryoma pulls back, resting his head on the duvet, hoping Xander got the ulterior message.

“Sorry, probably shouldn’t be talking about crushes with you of all people.” Xander laughs softly into the air, the first time it is unhindered by a kiss or the mental requirement to act proper. It’s a light, chiming thing that settles in a warm pool all around Ryoma’s body. Except his heart. That melts with the intensity of affection he has for this man.

“You have a beautiful laugh…” is all Ryoma can say to express what he just felt, and he can feel Xander tense in response.

“So is yours-I mean…it probably is, I haven’t-…” Ryoma can’t contain his own pure laugh anymore with the Crown Prince stuttering to sweetly over his words. Ryoma allows himself to laugh and Xander falls silent until Ryoma sighs happily.

“Y-yeah. It’s nice.” Xander says quietly.

“Thank you, Xander.” Ryoma says meaningfully, unsure how much more he can take of this man. Still, it seems Xander has gone past the similarity of the two men, putting it down to racism which Ryoma can understand, his identity is safe for now.

Feeling safe after straying slightly too close for comfort, Ryoma lets Xander continue placing soft kisses against his lips, cheeks, forehead, chin and the bridge of his nose. The slow, methodical actions allowing Ryoma to calm himself and just be swept along with whatever he is being given- he does enjoy it, just becoming increasingly aware of the constant pressure at the back of his mind telling him that the deeper he gets into this, the harder it will certainly be to crawl out of it alive.

“Shiro?” Xander breathes, his words ghosting over Ryoma’s lips, his breath hot and slightly slick somehow. That, or it’s Ryoma’s nervous sweat having cast a film over his features.

“Yes, Xander?” Ryoma responds, his voice coming out much bolder than he expected, likely hiding his weakness for this man.

“Could you top me again? I…well…i-if it’s going to make you…ahh…” Xander trails off, Ryoma cupping the crown prince’s two flushed cheeks and using one leg to press on his hip, rolling the two of them over.

“Anything else?” Ryoma teases lightly, ignoring the warning in his mind.

“You take charge…please.” Xander replies softly, an innocent gentleness coming out in his demeanour that Ryoma can’t quite shake as being completely genuine with the amount of times it’s been hinted at tonight, as if all this stuff of being a prince is not what he wants at all, that he wants someone else to take charge and he doesn’t enjoy all this responsibility.

With a sudden acceptance of the situation, he uses his hold on Xander’s cheeks to lift his lips to his, then slipping one hand behind to supporting the back of his head, Ryoma having to use a little of his training to channel weight into his legs to ground himself as he tries to keep a clear head kissing the shy, reluctant Crown Prince. It’s not so much he is taking advantage of the Prince’s real personality, just that he feels such a connection that he will do anything he asks of him, Shiro or Ryoma.

The kisses intensify further than before, Ryoma leading open-mouthed kisses against the corners of Xander’s opening ones, his tongue caressing the seam open further. Ryoma gives a few experimental licks into Xander’s mouth, brushing against teeth and a very tense, curled back tongue. Ryoma gently cards his fingers through Xander’s curled locks, a hesitant sigh escaping the Crown Prince’s lips. Ryoma doesn’t want to rush things, but he needs to keep taking charge, pressing his tongue against Xander’s to try and coax it to mingle with his.

Xander releases a gasp and the muscle relaxes, Ryoma quickly sweeping from under it to lick over it, trying to encourage movement. Xander seems hesitant but a small lift of his tongue does not go unnoticed by Ryoma, his tongue working of what little movement Xander provides to try and get the Crown Prince to relax, to lose himself, just for a while.

It seems to eventually start working- Xander’s limp hands now start to prod places Ryoma never knew he was sensitive in: under his ribs, between his shoulders, at his tailbone and most noisily at his collar. He doesn’t think much of it until Xander pulls back, a certain aura about him that sets Ryoma on edge.

“Are you sensitive everywhere or where I have been focusing?” Xander asks simply enough, though Ryoma can feel the edge to it, as if his response is certainly going to decide something.

Ryoma can’t lie, or he’d have to fake his reactions to anywhere else Xander would touch, but he can’t think of why it would matter if he agreed.

“Just those places I suppose, I’m sure you could find more too.” Ryoma decides to reply, hopefully not proving whatever Xander has planned.

“I am sensitive in those places too. Do you know why?” Xander replies and Ryoma has a feeling of dread as he shakes his head slowly.

“Because that is where armour covers and hangs off you. But you are a ninja, correct? You don’t need to wear armour, do you?” Xander’s tone is questioning, but something very dark lies under those words, Ryoma now on very thin ice.

“I have trained in swordsmanship. We need to protect ourselves during training. Of course I have worn armour before, especially in ceremonies. Even light armour sometimes means we can have wooden or leather bindings-“

“Where I touched you is where heavy steel plates need to be placed to evenly distribute its weight, or where it never touches. I know Nohrian and Hoshidan metalworks are different, but all steel weighs the same. It’s heavy and that needs to be distributed if you are to wear and use it effectively.” Xander states plainly, Ryoma wondering why he hasn’t been pushed off yet.

Acting on that, he dips his head down to softly kiss Xander’s collar, a cut-off gasp leaving Xander’s lips.

“What…or who are you, really?” Xander all but begs, likely meant to be said in a slightly more commanding tone but deciding to speak while Ryoma nips his collarbone was a poor decision.

“I’m someone who doesn’t want there to be any more conflict than is entirely necessary.” Ryoma states, having the high ground in the physical sense, but is certainly digging into that hole metaphorically.

“Name.” Xander breathes and Ryoma kisses up his neck to capture his lips in a flurry of short kisses, tongue teasing at the seam once more.

Surprisingly, Xander opens up and Ryoma dares to push past the possible trap of Xander’s teeth to mix with the prince’s tongue. Ryoma continues, pressing against all the places Xander mentioned apart from the tailbone which is pressed firmly into the springy mattress below. Gasps, and even the beginnings of a moan play of Xander’s occupied lips, Ryoma feeling the vibrations on his tongue, a tingling sensation that is not unwelcome.

“Does it matter?” Ryoma responds with a husky hint in his voice before spreading his hands out to grip Xander’s wrists and another gasp, dangerously close to a moan leaving his lips in response. Ryoma grips them hard, but hopefully not painfully so, positioning himself better to loom over the Prince and take ownership of him for the duration of the next make-out session.

Ryoma pushes his luck by thrusting his tongue deeply into Xander’s mouth, a startled sound melting into a full moan, though it sounded like Xander was trying to formulate a word. Suddenly growing curious, Ryoma retreats from the prince’s mouth and trials kisses down to his collar. The kissing leaves Xander’s lips free but also allows Ryoma to suck a little mark into his collar, another moan coming free from the blonde, Ryoma most certainly hearing an attempt at other syllables before the moaning ‘ahh’ at the end.

Ryoma brings Xander’s hands together, holding them just above Xander’s head before stretching out his arm so he can nip and suck little marks against Xander's skin, deciding that if anything’s going to happen, he’s going to be the one to start it. Xander doesn’t seem to have any objections, certainly not when Ryoma mouths at his clothed crotch with his arm still pinning down his hands, a hardness already pushing back against Ryoma’s slicked lips. Ryoma doesn’t have a very good angle as he pins Xander’s wrists, the prince easily able to break out of it but hopefully to attention at his groin will put all thoughts of escape out of his mind.

With his free hand, Ryoma tugs at the linen trousers Xander seems to consider nightwear. He pulls them free easily, finding the lack of underwear refreshing and also the explaining factor as to why he could feel the outline of Xander’s cock very easily.

With the cock exposed, Ryoma takes to kissing it as thoroughly as he did to Xander’s lips, coating it with open, mouthing kissing that spread saliva round the straining organ. Xander’s noises have all but turned into garbled messes of ‘yes’ and ‘please’, sometimes together, other times like chanting a prayer. Ryoma is not so religious, and even if he was, he is going to give Xander what he wants anyway so there is no need to beg. Indeed, the words stop as Ryoma takes Xander’s head into his mouth, giving a gentle suck before lowering himself further. He tunes in to Xander’s noises, finding he is all but hyperventilating but he trusts Xander will pull him off if he genuinely begins to faint.

So Ryoma continues, taking the cock deeper and giving it licks and sucks until it hits the back of his throat. Hoshidan temperance doesn’t allow him to reflex like his throat is screaming for him to do, overcoming it to plunge all of Xander’s cock into his mouth, Ryoma’s breathing being cut off but he swallows experimentally and Xander suddenly cries out, as if holding in all the noises from before.

As if the floodgates have opened, every suck and draw on Xander’s cock gives a moan in response, Ryoma being slightly preoccupied to notice Xander’s eyes clamping shut but does notice a small gyration starting from Xander’s hips. He continues, not minding in the slightest until Xander’s small movements grow into frantic thrusts and he has a more difficult time keeping his reflex down from the erratic movements pressing on and off the back of his throat.

“Ryoma~!!” Xander all but yells in a high, staccato voice, possibly waking up anyone in the rooms next door. Ryoma’s blood runs cold at the possibility but also the fact that his actual name was just shouted. The semen filling his mouth quickly warms his blood back up, Ryoma swallowing around Xander’s cock, licking up what he can to Xander’s quiet protests of being very sensitive there now. Ryoma pulls off with a final kiss to the slit, heart still pounding, and wipes his mouth on the back of his hand before releasing his grip on Xander’s wrists, rolling out his shoulder. He doesn’t get to do much rolling before he is gripped tightly by a pair of surprisingly strong arms.

“Thank you, Shiro, thank you so much…” Xander repeats, seemingly unaware of the fact he screamed anything but ‘Shiro’ a moment ago. Xander seems to notice Ryoma’s lack of response, loosening his hold and lifting his chin to meet a concerned gaze, blonde locks falling freely with the lack of circlet Ryoma does not remember casting off him.

“Do you…recall what you were calling out during all…my uhh…” Ryoma trails off, the weight of what he has just done beginning to settle on his shoulders. Xander was most certainly a virgin, if his erratic thrusts were anything to go by, and no matter how he’s going to explain himself as Ryoma, Xander will now have that over him. Not that Ryoma doesn’t have Xander’s breakdown on his side, but sucking the dick of a man you are supposed to be at war’s door with, it’s something to be scorned -if not illegal- to the country.

“Calling out? No I thought it was all incoherent words and noises…” Xander replies gently, giving soft, sweet kisses to the side of Ryoma’s neck.

“You cried ‘Ryoma’ as you…released.” Ryoma phrases awkwardly but the point was made. Xander’s eyes grow wide with shock, the white of his eyes much more visible from how blown out his pupils were a moment ago.

“Sh-Shiro I…I didn’t mean to I just…Well…it was a little more than a crush…” Xander explains haphazardly, his words not easily flowing, making the meaning all the more confusing.

“More than a crush? What did you do with him?” Ryoma certainly doesn’t remember any encounters with Xander that got sexual, if looking at him for a while from the other side of a conference hall was intimate to Xander, he certainly needs to sort his priorities.

“N-no! Nothing with him personally! Gods, that would be very…well, I know countries marry off women to increase stability with their neighbours but I couldn’t imagine anything like that happening with Ryoma and I. I mean, what could we do? It would be very bad news for continuing the bloodline of both of our countries, though we do have siblings, it’s got to be the first born doesn’t it-?”

“Not exactly. But you also didn’t answer my question.” Ryoma imitates Xander’s gentleness, trying to keep at least one of them coherent enough, even though Ryoma is anything but calm right now.

“Well I…alright. When you tell Ryoma all that’s happened here, don’t you dare tell him this, ok?” If Ryoma felt like he was in hot water now, the burning has reached him and there are going to be scars.

“Ok.”

“I…Well…I have never found women attractive and while I can say that my brother has grown into a mature young man, it’s nothing like the overbearing strength that Ryoma has. Even Niles is nothing compared to how that man trains and leads. I like his personality too don’t get me wrong, but it’s just his…aura…my point is that he was the first thing that I…I jerked off to. It was not a proud moment, but nothing else got me so riled up than teenage me wanting to be on the same level as Ryoma who was basically the same age as me but was already acting like an adult.” Xander grows progressively more agitated against Ryoma who is being held by the prince helplessly. Xander finally releases his grip, but it’s a slow slip that is reluctant so Ryoma compensates and holds him instead.

“Don’t worry, you were his first too.” Ryoma truthfully admits, gently rubbing Xander’s back which is now strangely still.

“How… do you know that?” Xander rightfully asks and once again, Ryoma’s incompetence shines. The two months spent planning this trip were mostly how to get across the border and thinking of disguises; both of which never came to fruition, especially the plan to act more as a migrant farmer and deliver the harvest to the capital. This whole trip has been turbo-boosted out of the sheer luck of finding Arthur and Ryoma’s plan clearly hasn’t caught up that well. Or it could be for the fact that a naked Xander is next to him and he simply wants to keep this façade going as long as possible.

Ryoma doesn’t answer with words, he doesn’t trust himself anymore. He slips his fingers between Xander’s and kisses him down into the bed, the soft white sheets framing the literal man of his dreams in an idyllic light. Admittedly, the look on Xander’s face is the most beautiful he has seen tonight and really finishes of his mental capture of perfection, something to treasure in his memories.

It’s the perfect mix of everything he knows Xander to be: those serious, fused eyebrows that never sway from their scowl, now with the innocence Ryoma now knows lies deep in his psyche, pushing through in his eyes. Blushing cheeks and saliva slicked lips finish off the image that Ryoma continues to stare at long after it was socially acceptable to do so, in a wonderful haze, far away from reality.

“R-Ryoma…?” Xander’s voice weaves into the perfect world inside Ryoma’s mind, the way Xander’s Nohrian accent weaves around the Hoshidan name is beautiful; and not said with spite or scorn every other time he has heard it.

“Hn?” He replies dumbly, coming back to his senses and Xander’s face now considerably more red.

“So it is you…” Xander concludes, Ryoma only just beginning to realise the utterly idiotic thing he has done. He could not be more of an idiot.

“Uhh, no, what about him?” Ryoma tries to rectify but the mortified look on Xander’s face has not quelled.

“Xander, is everything alright?” Ryoma tries to ask softly, realising he is still very much still perched on him. Though if anything, this is exactly what Xander wants in his heart of hearts so perhaps he should entertain his teenage dreams a little further.

Xander seems to be gearing up to say something, his blush fading and his scowl in full force. Ryoma decides it would look much better if Xander was blushing again and so delivers a hot, steamy kiss to his lips, grinding down on Xander’s lap at the same time. Ryoma observes his results and is content with the needy look replacing the scowl and the flushed cheeks returning in full force.

“Hoshidan…scum…” Xander drivels out, not even an attempt to load it with any bite, even sounding quite inviting.

“Aren’t I just…” Ryoma counters and captures Xander’s lips once more, a very heavy feeling coursing through his body to hone in on making Ryoma’s asshole burn. The blowjob wasn’t enough to satisfy Xander -Ryoma can tell by his cock pressing against his own with renewed energy- or perhaps it is the change in circumstance that led Xander to suddenly have a change of tact.

“When we are done here…I vow to kill you…you lying…scheming-“

“Attractive, strong, war-hardened, charismatic man.” Ryoma finishes for him and Xander doesn’t say anything to contrast. Ryoma makes sure Xander is fully hard again before he decides to make a show for Xander, since it is very unlikely he will receive audience participation, he wets his own fingers in his mouth. He makes low, sweet noises as he attempts to deep-throat his own two fingers, coating them with saliva before reaching down to rub against his restless asshole.

Xander stops Ryoma before he can even tease the entrance, gripping his wrist with one arm and essentially shoving his shoulder with the other. Ryoma gathers that Xander wants to take charge and -simply for the fact that it is different to what Ryoma has seen so far- lets him.

He is a little surprised when Xander manoeuvres him onto his hands and knees, something hard pressing against his ass already, when Ryoma has done no preparing. Ryoma tries not to make a noise but as the hard pressure turns into pain, he reflexively jolts forward and glances back to Xander.

“You…You do know how this works, don’t you?” Ryoma asks, his voice seemingly only collating a few inches in front of him since Xander seems oblivious to the question. Ryoma goes to repeat the question but the moment he opens his mouth, he finds thick, calloused fingers invading his heated mouth. Ryoma slicks them almost desperately, glad that Xander has some sense and can follow what Ryoma was planning to do, even though he has a sneaking suspicion that Xander has never done this before if what he thought earlier about him being a virgin was correct.

Xander withdraws his fingers but also the rest of his body entirely. Ryoma feels the chill of the night air without the nude body pressed against him and looking around-

“Close your eyes.” A harsh, all-too-familiar voice snaps at him. Ryoma wonders what he did to hurt Xander, why this is seemingly going backwards when his ass is literally about to be fucked. He thought he was appealing to Xander’s teenage wet dreams but this seems very well thought-out... has Xander still thought about him all these years later like Ryoma has?

It might indeed be the latter as a cool piece of cloth smothers Ryoma’s eyes and he only hears a scrape of metal before something even colder pushes at his lips. It feels angular and smells of the polish he uses to clean Raijinto, though he knows his sword is left securely back in Hoshido.

As if to figure out the mystery from feeling it with his tongue, Ryoma lets the foreign object into his mouth like a force is wanting it to. Bumps and crevasses make up the surface, all symmetrical and angular once again. Ryoma feels yet another chilled pressure at his ass, but this time it is wet and wastes no time in penetrating deep, the stretch finally filling Ryoma with some sense of relief and pleasure.

He gasps around the object in his mouth, an apparent allowance for it to plunge deeper and begin to impede his ability to breathe. Ryoma struggles uselessly with his head, made worse when a rough hand comes and grips a tight bunch of his hair and the weight attached to the object increases ten-fold, like it had been dropped since his jaw is tugged downward. Ryoma releases a moan which is nothing like the panic he actually feels, something about this whole situation making his own untouched dick strain and bead pre-cum.

Xander -presumably, unless he left and this is actually all Niles or some other sex demon (which Ryoma would not actually be all that surprised about)- inserts another finger, now partially dried from the chill of the night. It sticks and rubs more, making Ryoma seize a couple of times as he thought Xander wasn’t going to be like this at all.

He doesn’t know if he likes this development or not.

Ryoma doesn’t have much time to consider since Xander is apparently done with preparing Ryoma and the hot, blunt pressure returns to his asshole, Ryoma tries to relax as much as possible since he understands that behind all of this less-than-vanilla outwards appearance with gods-knows-what in his mouth, Xander is still a virgin- likely with females too if his angsty exterior is anything to go by.

A small puddle of charm washes over Ryoma, now reading the situation in a new light and finding that the cloth around his eyes is very loose and the object in his mouth is steadily slipping away and the grip in his hair is much more loose than before. Ryoma smiles around the object and doesn’t feel any pain when the blunt heat pushes through the somewhat loosened ring of muscle.

The pace is a quick and sporadic pounding, not grounded in any kind of intimacy. Perhaps all that Ryoma has been subjected to __is__  the fantasy from Xander’s teenage years, that nothing has developed in him but Ryoma has rekindled something within him from when he didn’t know it wasn’t OK for him to be attracted to men. This is Xander’s deviant streak, this is what he was forced out from becoming and Ryoma can see why, but also why it shouldn’t have happened.

Xander’s trusts strike deep, but not brushing where it feels best. Ryoma is sure Xander is big enough, having taken the thing in his mouth tonight as well. Ryoma tries to surreptitiously angle the thrusts by making his back bend down instead of arch up and that seems to send occasional rapid-fire thrust to hit the place that warms every fibre of Ryoma’s body with hot desire, his cock still left untouched but the building heat in his core likely meaning that he won’t need to touch it.

Xander continues his relentless pounding, the hand in his hair disappearing and the object in his mouth becoming active again, pushing to the back of his throat as Xander starts slowing to large, heaving thrusts that Ryoma will definitely feel in the morning. With a breathless whimper, Ryoma feels his ass heat up even more from the inside, the object being forced down his throat as Xander seems to tense every muscle with the waves of his orgasm. Ryoma can feel himself being so close, but his hands are still propping him position to take it from behind. Xander pulls out both the object in his mouth and his cock from Ryoma’s ass who collapses despite his high-strung nerves.

Ryoma feels his hand slip down to his straining cock, the cloth over his eyes falling away as he strains his head back with how good just a glancing brush feels. However, once again, Xander feels the need to interfere. He swats Ryoma’s hand away, very nearly slapping his dick, Xander taking it boldly in hand and beginning to stroke. It’s by no means polished, and his hands are dry and coarse. In fact, the whole experience is like shoving your dick into a hollow cylinder of sandpaper, but the fact is it a touch is still enough to make Ryoma release in a matter of seconds.

Many questions float around in Ryoma’s mind, the question of the object in his mouth certainly the most predominant, but what also is most curious is:

“Are you alright?” Ryoma croaks out, his voice hoarse from gasping and having a thing shoved down his throat. He looks up to Xander when he doesn’t respond, and all those questions are answered.

For one, he holds Siegfried in his hand, the hilt still slick with saliva. Next is the look of utter soft affection he wears on his face. Third, is the fact Xander is looking down at his hand which has been plastered with cum. While Ryoma is taking in the sight, Xander lifts his hand and takes a lick. Ryoma reaches up with minimal effort to make him stop, his limbs wanting nothing more than to rest with that wonderful look.

Xander looks over to him and take another lick before wiping the rest on the bed and placing Siegfried on the floor. Ryoma cringes, wondering how explaining a cum stain to the servants will go, but Xander sidles up to Ryoma, his hand coming to rest gently at the back of his head and he places a soft kiss to Ryoma’s forehead.

Ryoma looks up to him, though his limbs are tired, his brain is still working on overtime to try and make sense of the situation. Where did he get Siegfried from anyway?! This is the guest room!

“I’m more than alright, Ryoma.” Xander finally responds with another kiss to Ryoma’s hairline. Ryoma takes the opportunity to fulfil one of his own small dreams and embraces Xander as the sub, his arms heavy but managing to gain some purchase on sweat-slicked skin and pushes his face into the hard muscle that is Xander’s chest. He embraces him while he says the one thing that he hopes is true.

“I want this to continue. I really hope you don’t mean to kill me. Please don’t make conflict where there can be love…not just like this… but this is the best kind…”

Ryoma yawns, realising he is probably going to start rambling. Xander stops him.

“I believe we can find a way, Ryoma. This mission of yours has certainly highlighted something both political and personal and I am willing to take on the challenge harboured in both aspects of my life.” Xander formally replies, Ryoma can’t help but laugh, since after all this, Xander still feels like he needs to be so prince-like with him, even though Xander was the one that said he wanted informality when they were alone.

“Of course, Crown Prince Xander.” Ryoma offers and Xander blushes faintly, the fact Xander is still OK with all this baffles Ryoma to no end, there are so many loose ends that he wants to tie up, but sleep drags down all corners of his mind.

“I look forward to it, High Lord Ryoma.” Xander responds and kisses down his cheekbone, to the nose and then a small peck to Ryoma’s lips. It seems Xander is content at any rate. He may hurt in the morning, and questions may still be unanswered, but at least they are both happy.

The rest can wait until the morning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! I did have a small idea of adding an extra chapter with how Ryoma and Xander have their kids and the shenanigans of calling him Shiro but this is officially the end. 
> 
> I can only apologise for the lack of Arthur, I know he gets very little love despite him being a wonderful, comical character, but I have played very little of Conquest and there's only a limited amount of development you get from Revelation and FEH so i'm hardly the one to do him Justice(! ha! get it?)

**Author's Note:**

> A nice little intro. I'm breaking this into chapters so I can warn of smut but also I know it can get tiring reading a wall of text many lines long.
> 
> I'll post the next bit as and when it's wanted I guess?


End file.
